


Valdis

by kiruma, kiruna (kiruma)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiruma/pseuds/kiruma, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiruma/pseuds/kiruna
Summary: Then there was his nen. Sticky, almost sickly sweet, and an undertone that tasted like blood. It was the nen of a person who knew how to use it, and use it well. Just from his nen, she knew he was stronger than her. Much stronger. She had no idea why someone with that much power would perform a magic show for ordinary people on the streets. Her father’s voice in her head sternly told her that assassins did not challenge people who were obviously out of their league. Her brother's voice in her head told her to stay the hell away from flamboyant people.Luna Valdis had just wanted something intriguing in her life. And maybe revenge. Revenge was always good.
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter X Hunter)/Original Female Character(s), Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own HxH or any other referenced works that might pop up.
> 
> Just a few other points: 
> 
> 1\. Updates will be irregular. A combination of life, stress, and writer's block, as many of you probably understand. 
> 
> 2\. I really enjoy writing OCs. I know a lot of people hate OCs, and if you're here, you're probably not one of them -- but if you see any Mary Sue-ness or anything that makes you apprehensive, please feel free to tell me. I'm trying to make good OCs that people would use to prove that not OCs are bad. 
> 
> Have fun!

Something about their relationship dynamics, Nova mused, was definitely wrong. Parents were supposed to be obeyed absolutely (until they were not), and extended family were hardly more than strangers with the same family name as yours. Siblings were an existence you categorized as ‘useful’ or ‘dangerous’, which determined how they were dealt with once your parents inevitably lost their lives due to the perils of their occupation, or from parricide.

People were not supposed to _like_ their siblings.

Yet, as Nova watched his little sister – an absolute angel in human form, he would swear to anyone who would listen – he wondered where things started to go wrong.

The moment his mother had known there she had a new life growing in her belly, his parents had made one thing very clear: his job was to protect and guide his new sibling until time came to decide on succession as the next family head. Therefore, when the baby came into the world without a single peep, eight-year-old Nova had been fully prepared to feel stoic indifference towards the squishy living sack of fluids and bones and organs. He had been fully prepared to do his duty helping it practice the basics, to watch over it until his parents deemed it ready to do its job as a member of the Valdis family.

He had been fully prepared, and yet, the moment Luna Valdis had looked at him with those huge, black, soulless eyes, he had melted.

He had not expected the ball of pure talent in human form to be so _pure_ , so _innocent_.

She had flown through her lessons with relative ease, taking her doses of poison and torture without a single twitch, learning to blend into the shadows until Nova could no longer see her, mastering nen. Frankly, her potential was terrifying, and Nova had no doubt that if he ever fell behind in his own training, she would be able to kill him with ease.

Except it didn't quite matter, Nova had thought again and again, bemused at the concept that this monster he called a sibling had likely never even considered him a threat. One of the first lessons all Valdis children learned was to trust nobody but yourself, and sometimes not even that, because your body or mind can still betray you.

For some reason, this was the only lesson that didn’t take.

Or rather, Nova mused, she understood the concept, but simply refused to accept it. She trusted Nova with every fiber of her being, trusting him to fight by her side even if the rest of the world turned against them. She was still young, Nova concluded. Naïve. She had no ambition, no desire to fight Nova for the position as the head of the Valdis family. She would rather sit on her brother’s lap as he read her a story than compete against him to take her place as the next head. Thus, she had likely concluded, there was no reason for Nova to turn against her.

How absurd.

It drove his parents mad, and they had attempted to beat it out of her, but Nova didn’t find it displeasing. In fact, he found it almost ironic. That ‘waste,’ as his parents considered it, was the only reason why Nova had never, not even once, considered her a threat to his inheritance. He was free to treat this precious creature – the most adorable human to ever exist – the way she deserved to be treated. With plenty of treats, head pats, and play.

He did sometimes wonder where he went wrong raising her, though, for she enjoyed the strangest combinations of foods. The tomato shrimp pasta topped with wasabi, chocolate, strawberries, and death cap mushrooms she ate for lunch had made his stomach turn.

But, well, as long as she was happy and alive, Nova thought as he watched his genius sibling spar against their father, he would let her have any food combination she wanted, no matter how strange.

His fingers twitched as their father promptly dumped her flat on her back, her small body hitting the floor with a painful sounding thud, the point of a dagger at her throat. As he let her up, their father frowned and barked out a short list of things for her to fix by tomorrow. Luna nodded dutifully, her eyes calculating, reviewing a hundred possible moves and countermoves, and Nova knew she would never make the same mistakes again, for she was that much of a monster. Yet as always, Nova felt no apprehension towards her, for the end of every training session ended in the same way – with large eyes full of hope and expectations turned towards him, eagerly awaiting his approval. Nova smiled and placed a hand on her head, praising her for having lasted half a minute longer against their father than she had the day before. This, he thought as he petted her absently, the silky strands smooth under his calloused hands, a strange sense of pride welling up in his chest. This was what he lived for.

**********

Before The Incident occurred, Nova would never have considered bringing Luna with him to Heaven’s Arena. Even now, Nova was reluctant, primarily because there was a deranged, psychopathic, pedophile of a clown who would look at her with those perverted eyes and _taint_ his pure little murderous angel.

But in the light of The Incident, Nova decided that he had no choice. Heaven’s Arena was dangerous, but putting her in the spotlight and allowing the filth at Heaven’s Arena to be blessed with her presence posed less of a danger to her wellbeing than leaving her at home. So, after making her promise that she would poison, kill, or mutilate anyone who so much as laid a single fingertip on her, Nova and Luna set off towards Heaven’s Arena.

Nova took extra precautions to keep her safe, of course. He covered her with an oversized cloak that hung over her face, fully concealing it from anybody who would dare attempt to gaze upon the features of the most precious creature to ever exist, and armed her to the teeth with knives and needles coated in the deadliest poisons unknown to all but two people.

Nova had nearly started a fight with the receptionist on the first floor, arguing that a world treasure like Luna should not have to fight her way through the first 199 floors, and should instead start with him on the 200th floor. The receptionist had quaveringly stated that, yes, she understood nobody in the tower so much as deserved a glimpse of the girl, but rules were rules, and even world treasures had to follow the rules. Nova would have forced the woman to change the rules, but with a sleepy Luna tugging at his sleeve, silently asking when she could go sleep, Nova conceded and registered Luna as a regular contestant.

The siblings made their way up in record time. Having been to the 200th floor in the past, Nova did not need to fight. Instead, he focused his full attention on Luna and her battles He registered her for at least five fights a day – mysteriously, all of her opponents failed to show up, resulting in a new record number of wins by forfeit (the last record holder had been a certain pervert Nova wished he would never have to meet again, but alas) – and within the first couple of weeks, they had made it to where everything truly started.

**********

If it had only been nen users and powerful opponents, Nova would have been more than happy to allow Luna to run free, as long as she remained within his field of vision. It would have been the perfect opportunity to allow Luna to test her abilities against normal people, to learn how different people would react to her techniques.

However, the problem with the 200th floor onwards was that the worst predator in the world practically lived there. Nova would rather go up against the entire Valdis family, Zoldyk family, and every single inhabitant of Meteor City, including the Phantom Troupe, all at the same time, than allow that rotten piece of leftover cotton candy the honor of laying Its eyes on his baby sister.

Unfortunately, one of Its hobbies was hanging out at the entrance of the 200th floor, right in the middle of the corridor between the elevator and the reception. Nova did not understand the appeal of sitting and waiting like a spider hoping to catch decent pray, in spite of catching more trash in its web. Especially since It had the skills to sense decent nen users within five floors up and down.

Therefore, Nova had previously concluded, It enjoyed lying in wait merely for the shock factor. After all, most would not expect to come across a flamboyant, volatile magician the moment they stepped out onto the 200th floor. Knowing It, It definitely took perverse pleasure in seeing new contestants almost shit their pants when they were greeted either by a gaudy clown covered in the most nauseating nen Nova had ever come across, or by a nen sharpened playing card hurtling towards their face.

In spite of having been sensing Its nen for several days, since the two had arrived at the 190th floor – this almost guaranteed that It had also sensed Nova, and would be waiting – Nova had been hoping that It would leave in pursuit of more a more interesting victim before the siblings made it up.

Unfortunately, the presence of Its nen never vanished, even as they stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 200th floor. Nova felt Its cloying nen before the elevator doors opened, and grimaced. He just wanted It to not be there once in a while. Was that too much to ask? The elevator announced its arrival with a cheerful ‘ding!’ and the doors slid smoothly open. With a quick glance down to make sure Luna was completely hidden in his shadows, Nova stepped out.

It appeared immediately, of course.

“Well, well,” Hisoka purred, striding forward, a disgustingly pleased smile on its face.

“No.”

If Nova had been observing any less keenly, he would have missed the surprise that flashed across sharp eyes, before they flicked consideringly towards the tiny shadow following at Nova’s heels. Nova stiffened, muscles tensing in preparation. His hidden dagger slid halfway into his palm, ready to slide out and towards Hisoka’s throat, but remaining fully hidden. The festering marshmallow in human form standing in front of him was provoked by the most minuscule things, and Nova refused to allow his actions to attract Its interest towards the tiny cherubim hiding in his shadow.

Hawk eyes watched carefully as a calculating expression briefly crossed Hisoka’s face, the clown’s demeanor still relaxed. In spite of himself, Nova bristled. The movement caught Hisoka’s attention, forcefully dragging it back from the tiny hidden figure. It turned Its eyes back towards him, looking rather amused.

“You could at least greet me,” Hisoka pouted, carrying on as if he had not just been calculating whether murdering Luna would successfully goad Nova into a death match. “We haven’t seen each other in _so_ long.”

It took Nova incredible effort to prevent his nen from flaring, to stop his waiting dagger from sliding into his waiting palm. Think of Luna, Nova thought to himself, and took a deep breath. Think of Luna’s safety and how bad the pink cockroach in front of you could hurt her if you did the wrong thing. It took another deep breath before his nen steadied.

“I’m not fighting you,” he stated, voice unwavering, addressing the clown’s unspoken desire hanging in the air.

Hisoka straightened with a noncommittal hum, his smile tightening, his eyes once again flicking towards Nova’s shadow.

Time froze for a brief moment as the psychopathic clown and the Valdis heir’s killing intents filled the narrow hall. The air grew heavy as the two men watched and waited, considering their options, calculating their next move. Finally, Hisoka relaxed and stepped back, expression once again set to the default unreadable smile. Nova inwardly cursed as he forced his own muscles to loosen. Hisoka had won that little exchange. He had revealed too much, and Hisoka was a man who knew perfectly well how to use that information to his benefit.

Spinning on his heel, he stalked off with Luna at his heels, leaving Hisoka’s calculating smile behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Nova paced the room, a frown twisting his features as he chewed on his thumbnail. With Hisoka’s eyes now on Luna, Nova knew he needed to be a hundred times more cautious than he had initially thought. He shuddered. Luna was perfectly able to defend herself, and perhaps in five years she would surpass both Nova _and_ Hisoka, but not yet. And in spite of being a syrup coated radioactive cockroach that _just wouldn’t die_ , Hisoka was a smart man, with the senses of a beast. If Luna came across the man and had to fight, Hisoka would notice Luna’s potential. Then the pervert would become _interested_ in her, and that was simply not something Nova would accept.

No, what he needed were _countermeasures_. As long as the siblings had no choice but to spend their time at the Heaven’s Arena, he needed to find a way to keep Luna out of that pervert’s clutches, out of his line of sight. He already had traps set up around their room with poison-coated weapons ready to shoot out at any potential threat, but it wasn’t like he could just lock Luna up in the room the entire time they were at the Arena… Or could he? Nova considered it for a moment. He himself wouldn’t be able to stay in the room the entire time – he would need to fight in matches to keep the right to stay at the Arena, and would need to subtly remove Luna’s match opponents from existence – but she would have no need to fight, and thus no need to leave their room. And if she ever needed to leave the room for any possible reason, he could be there to pluck out any eyeballs that happened to stray in her direction.

“Nii, you’re bleeding,” a soft voice from the shadows said.

Nova jumped. He had nearly forgotten that she was there. She blended into the shadows almost _too_ well, but then again, there was no such thing as an assassin being too invisible. “Ahh, don’t worry about this. A little blood never hurt anybody.”

He could see Luna’s eyebrows furrow in discontent, and quickly hid the bleeding thumb behind his back, chuckling nervously. He hoped she would let it go. She could get a little overprotective sometimes, and if she decided to follow him whenever he left the room to make sure he was okay, that would very much defeat his plan of having her _never leave the room_.

She frowned at him disapprovingly for a moment more, before giving in. “Fine.”

Nova breathed a sigh of relief. Now, to set the traps and make sure they worked before his first fight.

**********

“Winner, Contestant Nova!” 

Subdued clapping rang from the audience. The announcer faltered. This was Nova’s sixth fight in the arena, and under normal circumstances, the audience would become increasingly hyped with each consecutive win. However, that was only under _normal_ circumstances.

Those who watched (and bet on) Heaven’s Arena matches past the 200th floor were there for the excitement. Or to gather information on a future opponent. Either way, most matches were full of tension and excitement as people with different abilities and skills risked their lives for fame and glory. Sometimes the matches were one-sided, which comes with the territory of “anybody can participate,” but even then, the stronger side would put some effort into entertaining the audience with a game of cat-and-mouse, making them and their much-weaker opponent believe they had the slightest chance of winning, before turning the tables on them and finishing them off.

Nova’s matches were anything but normal.

He finished each fight as quickly as possible, with as little pomp and circumstance as possible. His first two matches ended within seconds of the start signal, the opponent simply dropping dead with a spray of blood. His third match, having seen the first two, put up a little more of a fight, but a brawler with no knowledge of nen and only eight years of fighting experience stood no chance against a born and bred professional assassin. That “fight,” if anybody could even call it that, lasted less than three minutes.

After that record, only around fifty people showed up to Nova’s fourth fight, then around twenty for Nova’s fifth, and perhaps ten for the current fight. Frankly, the Arena’s management was at a loss. They made some profit off entrance fees for non-contestant viewers and the refreshments they bought, but most of their profits from the 200th floor and up were from people betting on contestants (and losing, of course). Only the most financially desperate handful of people were watching Nova’s fights now, and they all bet on him. Their payout was minuscule, and even worse, the Arena’s profit was near zero.

If that was all, it would still be acceptable, but Nova had killed every single person he had come up against, and if their suspicions were correct, the disappearances of all the fighters that were supposed to go against “Luna” were his fault as well. Some of those fighters had been the Arena’s cash cows.

None of this affected Nova, who was already hurrying back to the room he shared with Luna. That is, until an unexpected knock on his door came approximately two hours after the conclusion of his sixth fight.

Nova frowned at the door. He had not expected any visitors, and the nen signature at the door did not feel like Hisoka’s. Rather, it didn’t feel very hostile at all. He didn’t remember having ordered any food or laundry either. There was no reason whatsoever for anyone to be disturbing his precious time with Luna.

Which was why he ignored it and went back to watching Luna practice nen control.

She had gotten so much better at controlling nen. Her zetsu rivalled that of a corpse, and she had become capable of turning it on and off at will. And her activating zetsu always took his breath away. He had never met anyone else with such clear, bright, icy nen, nen that was so distinctively _Luna Valdis_ , and the emptiness it left behind whenever she activated zetsu always left him trying to grasp her nen signature again. Some days, while watching her, Nova would wonder if she was an angel of death, descended as a mortal to show the world what death truly meant.

But at this moment, said angel of death was staring at him in irritation, nen flickering. “Nii, the door.”

Nova blinked once, twice. Frowned. Yes, there seemed to be someone knocking at the door. He recalled having dismissed the person at the door just a moment ago – conveniently forgetting that he had done no such thing – but it seemed like they were overly persistent. He sighed. He really should tell the person at the door that nobody liked a tenacious person, and they really should change this trait if they ever planned to find a mate.

“What?” Nova demanded as he swung the door open.

The woman on the other side paused mid-knock, stunned. After having knocked for over ten minutes straight, she was beginning to think she was being ignored. Still, one couldn’t work at the Heaven’s Arena without being adaptable, and she recovered quickly. “May I come in? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you about your fights.”

Nova scowled. “No. Go away.”

He slammed the door shut.

The knocking began again immediately, and feeling Luna’s eyes burning the back of his skull, he groaned and opened the door again. “ _What?_ ”

The woman smiled politely. “May I come in? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you about your fights.”

Nova felt his teeth grind against each other. He _really_ needed to tell her that tenacity never ended well. “ _Fine_.”

**********

The woman, Janice, stepped into the room and looked around with mild interest. Other than those who cleaned the rooms and the contestants themselves, nobody entered a room once a contestant filled it. She knew that most contestants, especially those who planned to stay for a while, would add a personal touch to their rooms. Some of them overdid it – the story about the contestant who had turned their room into a pink, fluffy, glittery mess _and left it that way_ had been one of the more positive ones – but most of them made their rooms homier. She didn’t know what she had expected with this contestant’s room, really, but she did know that seeing the room as cold and impersonal as an empty one felt a little disappointing.

“Well?” An impatient voice said.

That jerked Janice back to her senses. “Let’s have a seat first.”

Ignoring the way the contestant did not look very happy about her intrusion (those who didn’t have thick skin didn’t survive long in this job), she sat down on the couch and looked at him expectantly. Because she was watching so closely, she saw the moment he glanced at the shadows almost uncertainly. She followed his gaze, confused. There was nothing there. Her eyes turned back to Contestant Nova, and she almost shivered at the animosity in his eyes. Contestant Nova finally moved and sat down – in a position that blocked her view of the shadow she was just looking at, she noted – and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

Janice cleared her throat. “Well, the management has discussed the issue and come to the conclusion that we simply _must_ inform you that continuing to fight in the matches the way you have been is unacceptable.”

An uncomfortable silence permeated the room for a second, before an irritated voice said, “What.”

“W-well,” Janice wished someone else, _anyone_ else, could take her place. Sometimes she just hated being the go-to person for things like this. “You see, the Heaven’s Arena has been losing a lot of money from your matches, and from all the people who die in those matches.”

“And this concerns me how.”

Janice knew a ‘this sounds like a you problem’ when she heard one, but if she went back without reaching an acceptable resolution, it would be her – rather nice, if she said so herself – ass on the streets. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. She read somewhere that this was body language that ‘showed confidence and dominance, both of which commanded obedience’. “The management has decided that, if your matches continue as they have been, you will be banned from the Arena.”

The look on Contestant Nova’s face made her confidence wither, and she decided that whoever wrote that book on body language had to be a quack, one who deserved to be arrested. If she got out of this alive, she was going to burn the book and save the ashes so she could one day meet the person who wrote it, and dump the ashes in their face.

Finally, Contestant Nova sighed aggravatedly. “And? What does ‘management’ want me to do?”

Janice felt a hint of relief well up in her belly. It was too early to relax, of course, but if he was willing to listen, he was unlikely to murder her. “Please make each fight last at least ten minutes, and put on a show. Make it interesting for the viewers to watch.”

She could hear his teeth clench from where she sat several feet away, and suddenly she thought she might not make it out alive after all.

“ _Fine_ ,” Contestant Nova ground out. “Now _leave_.”

Janice scurried out, more than happy to get out alive. On her way out, she took one last curious glance at the shadows Contestant Nova seemed so worried about. Yup. Empty as her wallet before payday. And the door shut behind her.

“Luna, did you hear that? This is ridiculous!” Nova’s muffled voice came from behind the door. “What? No, it isn’t _fine_! What if you get attacked?”

Janice shuddered as her hair stood up on their ends, and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

When Hisoka had first encountered Nova Valdis, he had been in the middle of attempting to... _convince_ a rather powerful young hunter that reciprocation was only fair, especially when in bed. He had allowed her to do some painfully delicious things with him. Or rather, _to_ him, considering that they were in her mansion, and it would only be polite to allow her to go first.

She did not, however, enjoy his attempt to return the favor.

He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember the hunter’s name or face anymore, but he did recall that they had had fun, as she attacked him tooth and nail, clawing deeply into his skin, drawing angry, bloody gouges that appeared as if he had wrestled with a panteron. In return, he had solicited the aid of his playing cards, cutting fine, elegant lines all over her body.

Unfortunately – or rather, should he consider it fortunate? – the hunter slowly staining her formerly pristine white sheets with spots of brilliant red had made quite a few enemies, and one of them just happened to be wealthy and powerful enough to have _connections_.

In other words, they hired a Valdis assassin.

It was all terrible timing, really. Hisoka had twitched in surprise when a masked, cloaked figure with a very large, very sharp knife crashed through the window. In hindsight, the Valdis’ client most likely requested a violent death, which Hisoka supposed involved shock and vulnerability and blood and pain. But he could clearly recall that during the moment, after the brief shock, he had been extremely confused as to why a person had hurtled through the glass window, interrupting his fun. It all felt rather impolite, really. If nothing else, the intruder should have waited until Hisoka was _done_.

Hisoka sighed ruefully. At least the interruption had come near the end, when his bedmate had _just_ bled out enough to become too docile. Perhaps the intruder would like to take his current bedmate’s place…

“What the fuck.”

Or not.

Hisoka cocked his head, frowning in confusion. The assassin had sounded a little _too_ shocked, but Hisoka supposed that seeing your target covered with blood before you even touched her _could_ be a bit of a surprise.

Without a second glance at the hunter, Hisoka stepped out of the bed. He glanced at the assassin. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in a round.”

“What the _fuck_ ,” the assassin repeated, sounding no less shocked than before. “ _No_!”

“Shame,” Hisoka shrugged, and began hunting for his clothes.

In any other circumstance, Hisoka would have invited the assassin to a nice fight to the death – the man was, after all, an 89 – but he was in a good mood, and quite sated from the… who was she again? Hisoka had forgotten, but he assumed the bedmate that had injured him so deliciously had been a female from the shallowly breathing, obviously feminine body on the bed.

He finally found his clothes – his pants were, for some reason, hung precariously on the ceiling fan (he retrieved those with bungee gum) while his shirt was draped over the lamp – and sauntered towards the attached bathroom. Hisoka paused and blinked, suddenly remembering something.

“Hey,” he said, turning to look at the intruder. “What is your name?”

There was a pause as the intruder’s nen wavered strangely, before a reluctant voice answered, “Nova. Nova Valdis.”

“Nova Valdis,” Hisoka rolled the name across his tongue, tasting it, and nodded. “I will remember you.”

Then he promptly turned and walked into the bathroom. When he had finished his shower, he had walked out to a room slightly more gruesome than he had left it. The corpse on the bed had been torn open from collarbone to navel, in what almost looked like a dissection gone wrong.

Hisoka leaned gingerly over the body, admiring the assassin’s handiwork – he had to admit: the corpse had been sliced open and arranged very nicely – but careful not to get bodily fluids over himself. He had just showered, after all. True, he had no clue why he was in the deceased woman’s house, or why he had just taken a shower in her bathroom, but he had just gotten clean, and he was not interested in covering himself with the blood and innards of a dead stranger. It was really a job well done, and he said the assassin’s name aloud again, running it through his memory, connecting it to the man’s nen.

He looked forward to fighting the man in the future.

**********

He had a few more run-ins with the assassin that year, before the Valdis completely disappeared from the radar.

At first, Hisoka was perplexed. They had had so many run-ins that year that if Hisoka had believed in fate, he would have called it precisely that. For the assassin to fall off the face of the planet like that was very unusual. Worrying, in fact, because Hisoka _did_ want to have a fight to the death with the man. Which was why Hisoka had subtly asked around, only to discover that the _entire_ Valdis family had vanished. Poof. Like one of the magic tricks he liked so much.

He was very much displeased.

But alas, Hisoka being Hisoka, reluctantly dismissed Nova as a lost toy, and put him in a neat little box in the corner of his mind, to recall if the man ever showed up again.

It took another year.

When Hisoka felt that almost-forgotten nen make its way up Heaven’s Arena, a sense of elation welled up within him. Nova’s nen had become much smoother, much more polished and subtle over the last year, and he had gone up to a 96. Hisoka knew it was about time to pick that fruit, for it would be a waste to let someone else get to him first.

But not yet. Not just yet. There was something almost _off_ about the assassin. Something… desperate. He didn’t quite show it in his face or body language, but there was an edge to his nen that wasn’t there before, and it wasn’t the razor sharp edge of a person who had grown into their strength. Rather, it was the jagged edge of a piece of paper torn by hand. It was a little unsettling, especially considering how _close_ the assassin had been a year ago. So Hisoka waited and watched.

Well, sort of.

Since Nova had showed up at Heaven’s Arena three months ago, he had fought eight times, and Hisoka hadn’t shown up to a single one. None of the opponents had been anyone Hisoka remembered the name or face of, which meant they wouldn’t put up enough of a fight to be worth watching. And he had been right. The fights all ended within seconds, and when they started lasting longer, Hisoka almost took notice, but in the end, weaklings were weaklings, and even if it was Nova fighting, it wouldn’t be enough to even get him hard. Therefore, he thought Nova’s ninth fight – and yes, he was keeping track – would be the same as usual.

But the name “Pluto” caught his attention.

Hisoka stared at the board for a few seconds, head cocked a smidge to the left, a fingertip resting lightly on his chin. Couldn’t be, could it? It would almost be too much of a coincidence. So of course, he had to sit in on the match.

From the moment Nova stepped into the arena, Hisoka could feel the assassin’s nen spike and ebb in agitation, and his eyes widened in anticipation.

“Pluto,” Nova snarled.

The unfamiliar black haired man smiled lightly. “Hello, cousin.”

Hisoka stifled a giggle behind a hand. Jackpot.

It was almost fascinating, the difference between the two Valdis assassins. Not their appearances, of course, for both had the trademark black hair, pale skin, and delicate features of the Valdis family. But Nova was tense enough to be knocked over by a gust of the wind, while ‘Pluto’ seemed very much at ease. Hisoka had to wonder what had happened between them, and more importantly, who was stronger.

“How the hell did you find me?” Nova demanded.

Pluto shrugged. “Wasn’t all that hard, if you consider the resources our family has. In fact, coming _here_ of all places, instead of hiding like a rat… Didn’t you _want_ to be found?”

In spite of everything, Hisoka had to agree. The Heaven’s Arena was probably the _worst_ place to be when one wanted to be inconspicuous. He would have personally suggested the underworld, or perhaps Meteor City.

“I’m going to kill you,” Nova snarled.

Hisoka’s smile turned into a frown. No, no, that was wrong. Only third rate fighters and below announced that they would kill their opponents. First rate professionals like Nova were supposed to simply do it. Hisoka shook his head sadly to himself. It looked like Nova still had some learning to do.

“Contestant Nova versus Contestant Pluto! Begin!”

The two Valdis assassins stayed motionless for a long moment, before they burst into motion. Hisoka’s trained eyes were able to follow the two assassins. Barely. Hisoka felt a gleeful smile creep back onto his face. If they could move this quickly, this _invisibly_ under the bright lights of the arena, what would it be like to fight them while they were in their natural environment of the shadows?

A knife flashed under the white glare, a line of red. Hisoka took a quivering breath as he fought to keep a grip on his bloodlust. Yes, this was it. This was what he wanted from Nova. Controlled, precise nen danced like a surgeon’s scalpel as the assassin struck out again and again, pushing back his opponent, driving the less-skilled Pluto into a corner.

Droplets of crimson painted the linoleum floors. Arm, cheek, neck, thigh… Hisoka could see Pluto slowing down as increasingly deep cuts began to litter his body. Almost, almost. Hisoka could already see the shadow of death fall over the younger Valdis. Nova, it appeared, saw the same shadow, for his knife struck out one more time, and a gush of blood sprayed out of Pluto’s abdomen. The two men stopped in their tracks. Pluto swayed on his feet, finally seeing the Reaper staring him in the eye. But something was _wrong_ , and everyone could sense it. Pluto’s gaze focused on Nova and he grinned.

“Hahaha,” Pluto wheezed out a laugh, clutching the wound. In spite of having lost the fight, in spite of being so near death, he had a mocking smile on his face that screamed victory. “It looks like you haven’t gotten any weaker. And yet…”

Nova’s eyes glowed with fury as he turned his gaze back to the loser. Hisoka shivered with delight. If only Nova would turn those _eyes_ , that _bloodlust_ on _him_ instead.

“And yet what,” Nova spat.

“And yet,” Pluto giggled between the wet coughs of a dead person still talking and breathing. “You couldn’t protect anyone. Not your mother, not your father… _Not your sister_.”

Killing intent spiked, and _something_ flashed, so quickly that Hisoka’s eyes barely caught the blur, and Pluto was dead mid-laugh, a pool of blood leaking from the slit throat, his face forever frozen in mocking laughter. But Nova wasn’t paying attention.

“Luna?” Nova glanced around the arena.

Hisoka frowned, his smile vanishing as he leaned forward, sharp eyes trained on the assassin. Nova’s eyes skimmed over the audience, seeing yet unseeing. Even from his seat, Hisoka could see the man’s pupils dilated, and his own breathe caught. Things were going _very_ wrong. Nova’s chest heaved; beads of cold sweat dripped from his chin.

“Luna?” Nova repeated, his voice uncertain. “Where are you? I can’t feel—where—Luna? Luna, LunaIcan’tLunaLunaLunaLuna—"

And Nova Valdis vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

Wake up, eat, train, sleep. Ever since she returned to the Valdis estates six months ago, Luna’s life had fallen into a cycle of the same mundane routine, only broken by the occasional – but increasingly frequent – jobs. There had to be something to say about a life where the only respite to the boredom was killing people for a measly sum of cash. But with mother, father, and Nova all gone, there was nobody left to say it.

When she had returned at the start of last winter, nothing and everything had changed. The Valdis estates looked exactly like they did in her memory from five years prior, from the heavy iron gates, to the outer walls topped with poison spikes, to the cold white marble walls and floors, to the icy grey fog that seemed to perpetually coat the mansion and surrounding forest. But everything else had changed.

Father and mother were no longer there. Nova-nii was no longer there. The loyal servants she remembered had been replaced with people who had no ties or respect for the former head, the army of assassins her father had raised to carry out lesser jobs had forgotten their debts to the former heads, and the person sitting in the seat of the heads of the Valdis family was not Cosmo and Andromeda Valdis, but Cepheus and Cressida Valdis, Luna’s uncle and aunt.

Their shock at seeing her alive had been almost amusing, Luna would admit. Uncle Cepheus’s face had twisted into the expression of a man who had just had a vile concoction of blended vomit, liver, and urine poured down his throat. Aunt Cressida had clutched at her chest as her blood drained out of her face, before she collapsed in a dead faint. Her cousins Mars and Mercury – Pluto was long dead, of course – didn’t even catch her, simply standing there staring with their eyes and mouths gaping, as if Luna were a vengeful ghost returned to curse them to their graves.

Yet, they had recovered quickly, considering. Almost immediately, Cepheus had forced his expression into a contrived smile, welcoming her home with a shaking voice. She had been placed back into her former room, which was untouched save for the missing valuable weapons. She didn’t need three guesses to know where those went, but neither did she care enough to attempt to get them back. Somehow, even thinking about asking for the weapons back after things so much more valuable and irreplaceable had already been stolen seemed laughable.

So while Cepheus watched her like a hawk, looking for the slightest sign that Luna knew of his role in her family’s death and, more importantly, a sign that she would either avenge them or try to take her rightful position as the Valdis family head, Luna lived quietly, invisibly. She ignored the cold, spying eyes of the servants, ignored their disrespectful behavior and blatant neglect, and obeyed her uncle’s orders with a dispassionate stare and a blank expression.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and caution turned into complacency and overconfidence. After so many months of her living like a mouse, he perceived her as too meek, too harmless, to harm his position. He had, after all, replaced everyone who showed even the slightest discontent or disloyalty, and all the people remaining in the estate were his people. One single mouse cannot beat hundreds of lions, even if said mouse turned out to be a lion as well.

But that didn’t change the fact that she was an eyesore, a reminder of his humiliation, a reminder that his _younger_ brother had succeeded where he failed because Cepheus had been weaker. So Cepheus began to send her on jobs. In spite of everything, she was a Valdis assassin. There were few enough of those that one more would boost their family’s reputation and profits. And considering that he would not have to worry about her dying on a job – that was, instead, the preferable outcome – he could send her on the most dangerous jobs while his own wife and children took the safe, easy ones.

Luna knew exactly what he was doing. Still, she did nothing but obey. There was no point in doing otherwise. Revenge for her parents? Their death was their own fault, their own weakness. They had trusted the wrong person, let their guard down even though they taught Luna and Nova to never do so themselves. It had almost been inevitable. Revenge for Nova-nii? The thought was tempting, but what would that accomplish? Killing them would not bring Nova-nii back. It would be purely for self-satisfaction, an attempt to make herself feel something, _anything_ , but that numbness inside her.

Except assassins never killed for no reason. They only killed their target, for money, and anyone unfortunate enough to get in the way. This was another lesson her family had driven into her head. The moment she killed for selfish purposes, she would no longer have the right to call herself an assassin, or even a professional. She would be nothing but a depraved murderer. She wasn’t interested in simply keeling over either. Dying by the hand of people so obviously weaker than her, people who could die by her hand without any risk to her own wellbeing, was so unappealing she could vomit.

So Luna obeyed, finished each job meticulously, and returned unharmed. With every job she returned from, Aunt Cressida grew increasingly vexed. With every job she returned from, it became more obvious that the entire household wanted her gone, or better yet, dead. And with each job she returned from, she felt something inside her grow a little more numb.

**********

“I have thirteen cards,” a sultry voice announced, capturing the full attention of the small crowd and a few more.

Luna paused. A street performance? She remembered having seen one before, long ago, when Nova snuck her out of the house to go to a festival. While the street performers back then had done nothing special, only doing a few card tricks and juggling fire – all of which any five-year-old Valdis could do – the mood and atmosphere of the festival had made the performances exciting. The siblings had been punished for sneaking out, of course, but the memory of that excitement made Luna’s feet move towards the performer, and she joined the small ring that had formed around him.

The moment she saw him, her brain froze. His appearance was… eccentric, to say the least. Neon green hair spiked straight up, a yellow star on one cheek and a red teardrop on the other, a dark green and yellow crop top, black harem pants, white court jester shoes. Every inch of his being was designed to stand out, to draw attention, and Luna felt herself unconsciously pull her hood lower over her head. They were opposite existences: one made to stand in the spotlight, the other made to blend into the shadows.

Then there was his _nen_. Sticky, almost sickly sweet, and an undertone that tasted like blood. It was the nen of a person who knew how to use it, and use it _well_. Just from his nen, she knew he was stronger than her. Much stronger. Luna shuddered. She had no idea why someone with _that much power_ would perform a magic show for ordinary people on the streets. Every minute of her training as an assassin screamed at her to _leave_ before the man noticed. Her father’s voice in her head told her that assassins did _not_ challenge people who were obviously out of their league. Nova-nii’s voice in her head told her to _stay the hell away from flamboyant people_.

And then she met his eyes, and time seemed to stop. Golden eyes widened with recognition, and his hands almost fumbled his cards before a body jostled Luna and she stumbled, and just like that the spell broke.

The performer quickly recovered, the sly smile returning to his face as he continues his performance, using members of the audience to do his card tricks. Her mind reeled. What was that? There had been a spark of recognition between them, but she was _certain_ she had never met him before. Her mind went blank. She stood rooted in place, barely seeing or hearing the performance.

She didn’t even notice the magician’s eyes flicked to her almost uncertainty throughout the duration of his performance. The rest of the show felt almost rushed, and the finale came surprisingly quickly, the magician finally bowing to his impressed audience. Then his eyes locked onto Luna, and suddenly she felt the need to _run_. Her instincts screamed that this man was dangerous. That she needed to be a thousand miles away, _now_. But a tiny part, a niggling little grain in her mind whispered, _stay_. _This is what you’ve been waiting for. A chance to feel something. Stay._

Her legs didn’t move, and finally the magician stood in front of her. His golden eyes seemed to pierce through her, seeing everything, but the smile was seductive. The combination was hypnotizing, and for a moment Luna had to wonder if he had worked to perfect it or if it had come naturally.

“I hope you enjoyed the show, my lady,” the performer dipped into a bow, his movements sweeping and elegant. Luna involuntarily took half a step back, and the magician’s smile faded into something more genuine as he straightened. “If you have some time, would you like to join me for a drink?”

Luna hesitated for a moment. Nova-nii had always told her to never follow strangers, especially strangers that set her internal alarm bells ringing – Luna had never understood that phrase, but with every nerve in her body screaming at her to flee, she finally appreciated how a human could have ‘internal alarm bells – but… She thought of the alternative, cold marble and disdainful stares, and… Well, the risk was worth it. Probably.

“Okay. Where?”

The performer’s smile widened and he bowed again, more shallowly, offering an arm. “Allow me to escort you, my lady.”

Luna stared at the arm. This had to be overkill. But somehow, overkill seemed to suit the man in front of her, so shrugging off all hesitation and reluctance, she took the arm. The performer looked pleased.

As the pair walked through the streets of Yorkshin, not quite blending in with the crowd, considering the stares they got, the performer kept up the stream of conversation. “There’s a good bar I know. Perfect for privacy in public” – he paused, glancing at her – “I do hope you’re old enough to drink.”

Luna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, to find gold staring back. Shouldn’t he have asked that _before_ deciding to go to a bar? “I am.”

“Good,” he purred.

They walked for a few more minutes in comfortable silence, before entering a building. Luna frowned imperceptibly under her hood. Something about the building felt… off? But she got into the elevator with the magician, and as the elevator climbed, the reason for her strange feeling became increasingly clear. She stiffened. There were relatively powerful nen users at the top floor. Quite a few of them, in fact, almost all around the level of the trained assassins of the Valdis household. And when she felt eyes observing her, she realized his intent, and frowned a little more.

He was _testing_ her.

Out of habit, she had been in zetsu the entire time, so it made sense that a man that powerful would _want_ to know what had attracted his attention to her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a little miffed.

The elevator arrived with a high-pitched _ding_ and the doors opened to the scene of a classy bar. Luna glanced around, careful not to let her nen or body betray her alertness. Twenty three. She felt no hostility, and the only glances that came her way were merely curious about the new arrivals, and after a moment of shock at seeing her peculiar companion, most gazes turned back to what they were originally doing. These people were simply enjoying a night out, Luna concluded, but if they decided to attack, she could take all of them. It wouldn’t be too difficult.

The man beside her, however, was a whole different story, and following him suddenly seemed like a terrible idea.

“Ladies first,” the performer said, bowing lightly.

She glanced at him and let the tension out of her body. Whatever he was planning, it was too late to turn back now.


	5. Chapter 5

Luna slid in, and the pair sat down at an empty table. She took one final discreet look around the bar, looking for any sign of hostility at all, and when she found none, she pushed down her hood. Her companion’s eyes were trained on her face. Recognition. Calculation. Realization. _Interest_.

Luna plastered a faint smile on her lips and kept her eyes carefully blank. So her companion could recognize the trademark features of a Valdis when he saw one. Even more importantly, it seemed like he had strong suspicions about her identity – only suspicions, for now, as she hasn’t confirmed anything yet. Considering how he didn’t even try to hide his recognition, it didn’t seem as though he realized how much it told her about him. The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Too young to have known her parents – they would have been careful to eliminate any witnesses – but the perfect age to have met Nova-nii.

It quickly became evident that Luna had no idea how bars – or alcohol – worked, so the magician ordered for them both. What arrived was an unexpectedly pretty and colorful drink.

“A galaxy cocktail,” the magician explained as she took a sip.

The liquid hit her taste buds and her eyebrows shot up. A perfect blend of sweet, tart, and bubbly. She took another sip, then another. A low chuckle hit her ear and she paused, glancing at her companion. He was watching her with a pleased smile, but the smile was so smug that she resisted the urge to take another and put the glass down with a soft clink.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he said.

She very much minded. Luna cleared her throat, tearing her gaze away from the drink and turning it back to her companion. If he wanted to test her, well, she could play that game too.

“This is good,” Luna said, gesturing towards her drink. “How did you find this place?”

“Oh,” the magician waved a hand. “You know, the usual.”

No, Luna absolutely did _not_ know ‘the usual’, and the magician did not seem to be in the mood to give a straight answer, if that ‘shit-eating grin,’ as Nova-nii would describe it, was any indication. And Luna did not think that her suspicion, ‘sensing relatively strong nen users and following them,’ would be very ‘usual’ at all.

“And what about you?” He asked. “Do you live around these parts?”

“Something like that,” Luna said dismissively, her tone ambiguous. Behind her hood, her eyes studied the magician’s expression.

His eyes glinted in amusement, the man immediately realizing what she was doing. And he knew she knew what he was doing. Intelligent, she observed, and more than willing to play games if it entertained him. It didn’t seem like he had any intention of fighting or killing her. She relaxed a little more, but didn't let down her guard. She had followed the man in spite of the warning bells in her head, but she didn’t plan to die tonight. Mentally, she went over her inventory of hidden weapons again. Twelve knives, thirty seven poison needles, and her nen. She might not win, but she could still put up a fight and tear a few holes into him if it came down to it.

“Do you often perform magic on the side of the street?”

_Why was someone as strong as you performing magic on the side of the street?_

“It’s good practice,” he answered. “Having so many eyes watching closely for tricks, tells, and slip-ups helps me make sure that I don’t make any mistakes on a bigger stage.”

Luna blinked once, but gave no other reaction. That was a surprisingly honest answer. Still vague enough to be infuriating, though, because the ‘bigger stage’ could be anything from legitimate magic performances to massacring groups of people who had the misfortune to piss him off.

“It looks like you enjoyed the show, though,” he continued. “What made you stop and watch?”

_Why did a Valdis assassin decide to stop by and watch a street performance?_

Luna considered it for a moment. He had given her a decently honest answer, so she would give him one in return. “I was bored.”

A delicate eyebrow arched.

“Nothing interesting has happened lately, so I stopped on a whim,” Luna continued. “I was looking for entertainment.”

“Aww,” the magician pouted. “So you would’ve stopped even if it _wasn’t_ me.”

“Yes,” Luna nodded, and deemed it a good time to take another sip of her drink. “However, if it were anyone else, I might not have stayed.”

Luna blinked again, frowned slightly, and glanced down at her drink. She had not meant to say that. In fact, wasn’t she being a little too talkative tonight? It was as if the words that had been kept inside her over the last five years were all spilling out. She glanced back up at the magician. He looked pleased. Luna glanced back down at her drink. Well, she supposed that it was fine, just for tonight.

The rest of the night flew by too quickly, the two no longer testing one another, but simply enjoying their time with an unexpectedly agreeable companion. The guests around them at the bar dwindled until only they were left, and finally, the bartender kicked them out. Just as they were heading out, the magician paused for a moment, then turned and scribbled something on a napkin before handing it to her. Luna stared at the numbers blankly. A secret code…? They had to mean something, but she had no idea _what_.

“My phone number,” the magician explained.

That made a lot more sense. Luna nodded and slid the napkin into her pocket. She would enter the number into her phone later. They kept an amiable silence in the elevator until Luna remembered an important issue that they seemed to have forgotten to address. “Name?”

The performer blinked, surprised. Although he had given her his phone number, it looked like he had expected her to throw away the napkin once he was out of sight. The smile he gave her was probably the most genuine one she had seen all night. “Hisoka.”

Luna nodded, committing the name and face to memory. “Luna.”

“Luna,” Hisoka rolled the name across his tongue, and nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

As the elevator arrived on ground floor and they exited the building, Luna nodded her goodbye and walked into the crowd, blending in immediately. But before she got out of earshot, she heard a low voice say, “See you again, Luna.”

**********

“Where have you been?” A cold voice asked.

Luna glanced at the owner of the voice. “Finishing the job.”

Mars scowled at her, moving closer until he was looming over her. Luna craned her neck up to meet his eyes. How unpleasant. Hisoka had been much taller, but he had been polite and considerate, unlike the lower life form she called a cousin standing in front of her. She stared straight into his eyes, her aura swelling quietly around her. It looked like she had kept quiet for so long that even her insignificant weakling of a cousin had grown to think that he held more power than her. Mars flinched, taking an involuntary step back and stumbling. The stumble shocked him back to his senses. He shook himself, realized what had happened, and his face started turning beet red.

“You _dare_ look at me with those eyes?! A piece of trash like you?” Mars screamed, spittle flying from his lips.

Luna glanced at the droplets in disgust. She was still in a good mood. This… was not something she felt like dealing with now. She turned and walked away, leaving her cousin screaming profanities behind her. Her aunt and uncle wouldn’t stay quiet about this, but they were already actively trying to get rid of her. What more could they do?

**********

_Knock knock_.

“Master, I have escorted the young miss here,” the butler announced.

Four people. Luna frowned and discreetly checked her hidden weapons again. Usually when her uncle called her to the office, he was alone, or in a rare case, with a client who wanted to examine the assassin they were hiring with their own eyes. Not once had her aunt or cousins been in the room as well, the three preferring to spend their time _not_ seeing Luna anywhere in their vicinity. Luna preferred it that way as well, honestly. Nothing like constantly seeing the people who murdered your parents for ruining your appetite.

Sixteen knives and fifty four poisoned needles. They were all in place and ready for use. As much as Luna doubted that her uncle and his immediately family would attack her directly, preparation and caution were the key to survival.

It was a lesson her parents had only forgotten for one brief moment.

“She may enter.”

The butler opened the door. Luna smoothed her expression, took a deep breath, and stepped in. The door shut ominously behind her.

“You asked for me, uncle?”

One in front of her, two on her left, and one on her right. This was fine. There were twenty three ways she could escape the room alive and unharmed if they attacked, and four of those ways allowed her to kill all of them in the process.

“My darling niece! I have wonderful news,” Cepheus said, grinning widely.

Luna paused for a millisecond and once gain probed the room cautiously with her nen. She felt no unknown nen signatures, and her eyebrows lowered a smidge. Her uncle was behaving strangely, and if it wasn’t some mind-control or puppetry nen user, then…

Her aunt and cousins snickered. Cepheus shot them a glare, before he snapped the smile back onto his face and turned back to Luna. Luna didn’t so much as twitch, as if she had noticed none of the exchange. This farce was… ridiculous. When they had been alive, her parents had often reprimanded Nova-nii for expressing his emotions too overtly on his face. This was in spite of the fact that Nova-nii only freely expressed himself outside of jobs; when working his face was an unreadable wall. Luna had to wonder how her uncle and his family, who couldn’t even hide basic emotions, managed to survive this long in the Valdis family.

“We received a request that would suit your skills _perfectly_ ,” Cepheus continued, and in spite of the sugar sweet smile plastered across his face, Luna could see loathing and malice flash across his unsmiling eyes. “The Phantom Troupe. Have you heard that name before?”

Luna nodded almost imperceptibly. Only those who lived in complete ignorance would not know that name. The Phantom Troupe. Also known as the Spider. A group of thieves with Class-A Bounties, the dream prey of every starred blacklist hunter and the bane of anyone who owned anything worth any money. All that was publicly known about the members were that they were powerful, ruthless, marked with a spider tattoo, and that there were thirteen of them. Cepheus’s eyes glinted. Luna lifted her chin. So it had finally come to this. An overwhelmingly powerful target with unknown names and faces. They had finally gotten serious about trying to get rid of her.

“The client wants us to kill the leader,” Cepheus said.

Client… Luna glanced at her aunt and cousins through her peripheral vision. Even if they held a grudge, people did not normally hire assassins to kill people they didn’t know the names or faces of. They would start with an informant, _then_ reach out to an assassin with the information. How dull-witted did her uncle think she was? She had been expecting this eventually, but she hadn’t expected that they would go about it so _incompetently._

Cepheus studied her closely, watching for a reaction. Luna didn’t so much as twitch, her face impassive. If Cepheus was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He cleared his throat. “Well, that’s your next job. Find out who the leader is and finish him off.”


	6. Chapter 6

"Ginger milk, with milk from snow yaks and rock bee honey," Luna ordered.

The bartender paused his wiping, frowned slightly, and stared down his nose at the girl. "Miss, we turn into a bar after six. If you would like ginger milk, please return tomorrow during the day."

Luna's lips quirked downwards. She would have come in the daytime if daytime was not so incredibly inconvenient. Unfortunately, daylight involved something called "sunlight," and light simply did not mesh well with "assassin". In other words, being visible was incredibly disconcerting – she wasn't too proud to refuse to admit a weakness like that to herself, especially when knowing one's own weaknesses intimately served as a key to survival – and she refused to subject herself to that when she didn't need to.

"Then use ginger liqueur. Two shots."

The bartender sighed and continued cleaning the glass, deliberately not looking at her. A dismissal. "Miss, are you even old enough to drink?"

"Ginger milk, with milk from snow yaks and rock bee honey, and two shots of ginger liqueur," Luna repeated firmly, staring him straight in the eye.

He eyed her suspiciously. She could see his brain turning. After a few tense seconds, something in his mind clicked and he acquiesced. "Miss, we cannot serve alcohol to minors. I think you should come to the back and wait while I call the manager."

He opened a door behind him. Luna peered into the dark from her seat, but no matter how hard she stared, she couldn't make out even the faintest shape. Her eyes flicked to the bartender. He was the image of professionalism as he held the door open for her. Trust didn't come easily to a person who had been taught since birth to trust no one, but Luna supposed that a business could not survive very long if they were in the habit of murdering their clients. Besides, she sensed no hostility from the bartender, and nobody within miles seemed powerful enough to give her much trouble, even if they ganged up on her. Not even the two trained nen signatures down the dark hall and to the left. Payson and a guard, she supposed, or another client. Concluding that she could defend herself perfectly well in case anything happened – her mental pat-down produced sixteen knives and fifty-two poison coated needles – Luna rose from her seat and walked behind the bar.

"Last door on the right," the bartender murmured, low enough so only she could hear.

Her shoulder brushed across the bartender's chest as she slid past him, a cold hilt resting reassuringly in her palm. The sting of his eyes remained on her until she fully entered the dark area, and the door slammed shut on her heels as if he couldn't wait to get rid of her, leaving her in total darkness. Well, that was rude. Even if Luna had not been raised with impeccable manners – you never knew where you would have to infiltrate as an assassin, and behaving like a rhino at a high-end dinner party would be a dead giveaway – it was obvious that this was terrible customer service. Even worse, the bartender had not properly screened her at all. One would expect, that in such a public location with a boss that had such a treacherous career, the initial screening would have been more stringent.

Luna blinked several times, adjusting her eyes to the pitch dark, before peering down the short hallway. She couldn't see any traps, with or without gyo activated. Alone in the dark, she allowed herself to frown. For her to be unable to detect them… Whoever had set the traps in the hall had to be a genius. Perhaps someday she would have the opportunity to meet them. For the moment, she needed to make her way to the room at the end of the hall and to the left. She stepped cautiously forward. Then another step, and another.

Within moments, she reached the end of the hall, and not one trap had been triggered. Luna spun incredulously on her heel and stared at the path she had walked through, indignant. _Not one single trap_. No screening, no traps, no guards… She had killed people with fewer enemies than Payson, and _they_ had tighter security! She could, at this very moment, waltz right in to the room on the left, slit Payson's throat, and walk back out and everybody would be none the wiser until they discovered the bodies! This was _beyond_ rude. Her mouth set into a grim line. She would have to have a word with Payson about this.

Turning briskly to the right, she swung open the door and stepped into the room. As expected, not a single weapon, poisoned or otherwise, flew out at her. Lifting her chin, she scanned the room. No traps. Luna flounced onto the couch to wait. The room was acceptable, she supposed. Warmly lit, the simple waiting room had two sofas facing each other – she took the one facing the door – and no windows. It had enough expensive décor for rich clients to feel comfortable forking over money without being worried that they were being scammed by someone desperate for cash, but it also had nowhere for anybody to lie in wait, perfect for clients like her, who could never afford to let their guard down. They knew exactly who their clientele were and how to deal with them. Her approval of Payson's business inched up a notch.

Thinking logically, her job wasn't too complicated. Locate the Troupe, identify the leader, slit his or her throat, and leave. However, there were obvious pitfalls that plan.

First, _getting out alive_. Two weeks ago this would not have been a concern, but she had just made her first friend ever, and to simply _die_ felt like a waste. Considering the power and skill level of the Troupe, she highly doubted that they would let her stab their leader and waltz out the door. Worst case scenario, she would have to kill every single member of the Troupe present.

Second, identifying the leader based on the behavior of the Spiders would only work if they were together. If the Troupe remained separate outside of jobs – and Luna strongly suspected they did, as thirteen powerful nen users traveling around together would draw enough attention that the Troupe wouldn't have remained unidentified for this long – then unless she caught them in action, she would never know who was a member of the Troupe and who wasn't, much less identify the leader.

Third, locating the Troupe. Despite their infamy, nobody knew much about them. All she had to go on was their reputation and their penchant for showing up to steal something of value, leaving destruction and mayhem in their wake. There was no rhyme or reason to their movements – it felt almost as if they saw or heard of something, became interested, and took it. Art, jewels, gold, books, clothing, food, wine, antiques, eyes, exotic animals… Luna had even heard rumors of them stealing sign boards and toilet paper. Without a clear pattern to the items they stole, it would be near impossible to guess what they would aim for next, and therefore it would be near impossible to locate them until they launched an attack. And this was exactly why she had come to Payson.

Nova-nii had once told her that if _Payson_ couldn't find any information about something, nobody could.

The two nen signatures from the room on the left approached. Luna sat up, eyed the door. One of the two rapped sharply on the door before slowly opening it. Her opinion of them inched up another notch. She approved. Announcing their presence was an excellent way of avoiding becoming a human pincushion.

"My apologies for the wai—GWAAAAHHH!"

As soon as he screamed, the large man behind him charged forward, teeth bared in a grimace and knife gripped in a fist. Luna sidestepped, and with a swift chop to the temple, the man crumpled, unconscious. A decent guard, Luna supposed, but not very effective.

Then immediately forgetting the momentary threat, she turned her gaze with bemusement to the man who had spoken, who sat quivering on the floor, face drained of blood. He looked almost as shocked as her uncle and aunt had, she observed. She had no idea why, really. It wasn't as if _he_ had sent someone to murder her, just for her to return alive and unharmed. Yet, he had the expression of a man staring death in the face – not that he was _wrong_ , Luna thought in hindsight – and found it grinning back.

"W-w-w-wh… H-h-how are y-you _alive_?" The man stammered.

Luna tilted her head a smidge, puzzled, and regarded the man on the floor, ignoring the larger man bristling behind him. "I am alive because I am not dead."

The terrified man had to be Payson, the infamous informant of the underworld, rumored to be capable of obtaining _any_ information, as long as the payment matched the value of said information. He didn't look like much – his face leaned towards "handsome," but remained unexceptional enough that if you passed him on the street, you would forget his face within moments. His nen, as well, tasted bland, average. Definitely not a character someone like Hisoka would have taken note of. However, in spite of the inane question, he was undoubtedly highly intelligent. In other words, a perfect informant. She could see why her parents and Nova-nii had held him in such high regards.

"I- I had received news that you were…" Payson recovered quickly. He rose to his feet, brushing off his trousers and clearing his throat, avoiding her eyes. "I apologize. It appears that I have received incorrect information and reacted inappropriately."

When he finally met her eyes again, his expression had smoothed into a mask of professionalism. Luna's eyes flicked to his hands. They were still trembling. Payson moved to sit on the opposite couch – making sure not to block her view of the door, Luna noticed – and his lips curved into a businesslike smile. Luna decided that it would only be polite to ignore the cold sweat on his forehead.

"You must be Luna Valdis," he said. "I am Payson. How may I be of assistance?"

"I need information about my next target," Luna said. "The leader of the Phantom Troupe. At the very least, I need his or her location."

Payson's hand twitched, but he gave no other sign of shock. Luna waited silently. Finally he shifted, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. "That would be a difficult job. Eighty million jennies."

"Deal," Luna said immediately.

Payson's eyebrows shot up. Luna kept her face impassive. She, too, has met clients who tried to bargain the price down – a huge mistake when dealing with people who could kill you thirty four ways before you could say "make it cheaper," if you asked her – and considering the body count of such brainless morons dealing with _Valdis assassins_ , she could only imagine how many tried to get a better deal with the information broker. Her parents had sent that sort of clients home in multiple pieces. Payson most likely did the same, with more roundabout methods.

Regardless, Luna did not feel inclined to bargain. Her family had taught her that exceptional and fast service was always worth whatever price they asked. Besides, this was an uncommonly high-risk job, even for someone of Payson's caliber, and the price he asked would only be a minor dent in her bank account.

"How long will you need?" Luna asked.

"U-uhh," Payson cleared his throat. "One week should be enough."

Oh? Luna studied Payson once again, seeing him in a new light, and nodded. That was much less time than she had expected. With the elusiveness of the Spiders, she had thought it would take a month at the very least, and up to a year at most. Only requiring a week demonstrated Payson's prowess. In hindsight, this was probably why her family exclusively used this man when they needed information.

Within seconds, forty million jennies changed hands, with the rest to be paid when he sent her the information she had requested. They stepped over the prone body of Payson's guard – the man would probably take a pay cut or lose his job, Luna thought, but he really shouldn't have been so weak – and Payson guided her back through the hallway, better lit now, and rapped sharply on the door. Before the door opened, he smiled and bowed.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," he said smoothly.

And as the door slid slowly open, the hallway lights flickered shut, and the information broker stepped back out of reach of the yellow light crawling in from the bar, out of sight of any customer curious enough to take a peek into the darkness beyond the door. Luna walked out.

Exactly a week later, she had an address.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if allergies are making me permanently exhausted or if I'm just chronically overworked, but this took me way longer than it probably should have. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
> 
> If anything doesn't make sense, please let me know!

Crouched in the shadows on the other side of a wall of crates, Luna bided her time.

Her first thought when she had arrived at the dingy warehouse the Troupe had made their temporary base had been a sarcastic, _well, this looks like a great place to die_. The second had been, _Hisoka is an asshole._

Eight of the thirteen Spiders sat on the other side of the flimsy makeshift barrier. One of them happened to be her new friend.

Listening to the pages of a book crinkle and turn, the soft _thud, thud, thud_ of sharpened cards burying themselves in wood, and rustles of clothes as people shifted into more comfortable positions, Luna closed her eyes and let her head fall back to rest against the wall. It would only take one good attack to shatter her temporary sanctuary, but at the moment, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

_Twenty-four knives and fifty-six poison coated needles…_

For what felt like the thousandth time that night, she reviewed her plan. She would _swiftly_ move behind the boss, stick her knife in his jugular, yank it out while running towards that window on the far end, and leap out the window while praying that Hisoka, who had decided to make things unbelievably awkward for her by _sitting_ _right next to her escape route_ , would let her go. If things didn’t go well… Well, none of this mess would be her problem anymore, now would it? But if things _did_ go well, everything would end in moments. Her job would be done, she would survive, and her uncle could _suck it_ , as her brother so often said.

That reminded her. If she _did_ survive it, she should probably ask Hisoka what ‘it’ was that her uncle should suck.

With that thought lingering in her mind, Luna took a deep breath, rose soundlessly to her feet, took just one step – and a sharpened card flashed by her nose, missing skin by millimeters. She jerked back and stayed absolutely still, blood pounding in her skull.

Her ears picked up the faint shuffle of clothes and high heels on a dirt floor as the magician got off his crate and walked towards the card that he had shot way off target. The card that had almost sliced her nose off. The card that _was giving away her hiding place_. Luna cursed inwardly.

Well. This was going to be incredibly inconvenient.

Hisoka’s familiar face peered over the wall of crates, and Luna shrank back, pulling her hood as far down as it could go without infringing on her range of vision. Gold eyes skimmed the shadows fruitlessly in search of the lost card. A man who lived for the spotlight would be blind in the dark, after all. Luna really didn’t think he could see black on black, especially if she remained motionless, but she would also very much prefer to know if death decided to stare her in the face, so her eyes followed his every move.

Then Hisoka’s eyes widened, and Luna instinctively hurled a dagger at his eyes and leapt back, bristling.

Their eyes met. _Their eyes met_. It was over. Any time now, Hisoka would alert the others to the assassin hiding behind the crates, and she was going to haunt Hisoka for the rest of his miserable life.

Ten seconds passed, then thirty, and still Hisoka remained silent. She released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and frowned, tension seeping out of her shoulders. Hisoka wasn’t warning them. _Why wasn’t Hisoka warning them_. She squinted suspiciously at him, palming another dagger behind her back.

Hisoka – the bastard – just smiled, put a finger to his lips, and _pocketed her knife_.

Her eyes narrowed further. She was getting that back later.

If she survived.

With a final wink at her, Hisoka’s face retreated, leaving her alone with the dark and mischievous gold eyes burned into her mind. She stared at the spot his face occupied mere moments ago. It was almost offensive, Luna mused, the way Hisoka had decided not to say anything. It felt almost as if he was playing some sort of game – not that that would be in any way surprising, considering his personality – but it would be nice to know _what_ the game was.

Luna stayed still for another fifteen minutes, simply staring at the wall and listening. Pages continued turning, people continued breathing, and somebody yawned, apparently bored or tired. Nobody stood up, nobody headed in her direction, nobody’s aura changed, nobody leaked killing intent. Unless all eight Spiders were masters of aura control, it seemed like Hisoka really didn’t warn them. Not even silently.

She moved cautiously towards the edge of the shadows, all the while making sure that the crates still hid her from the sight of the eight Spiders sitting in the warehouse, and paused.

Nothing.

She took a deep breath, feeling the hilt of her knife press comfortingly into her palm, and began counting down.

_Ten. Nine. Eight._

She sprung.

_Seven. Six. Five._

In a flash, she was behind her target, his obsidian hair barely ruffling as she slid to a stop.

 _Four. Three. Two_.

The silver blade flashed gold in the candle light as it dove for the man’s exposed throat as he turned a page

 _One_.

And everything stopped.

**********

In spite of this being one of the first jobs he had been called on since “joining” the Phantom Troupe, the night so far had been hideously boring. When he killed Whatsisname and took his place as the fourth Spider, Hisoka had expected something more _interesting_. This was the _Phantom Troupe_. The most feared criminal organization in the world, more fearsome than even the Mafia, because at the very least, the Mafia had rules.

The Spiders very much did not.

That in itself was fine, Hisoka supposed. He had never been one for rules anyways, and the general unpredictability of the Spiders – other than that they steal and plunder and murder anyone unlucky enough to be on the premises – suited him rather well. His experiences had taught him that people did not enjoy unpredictability, you see, as people would much rather have their lives fit into neat little categorized boxes. At best, they found unpredictability quite discomforting. At worst, terrifying.

Which was precisely why Hisoka took immense pleasure in crossing those lines and seeing people squirm.

But that was beside the point. Rules or not, the Spiders haven’t been doing anything _fun_ , and Hisoka was _bored_. He snuck a glance at the other Spiders. They were doing nothing but sit around while Chrollo read, and Hisoka almost considered just going for Chrollo and attempting to rip his throat out with his teeth. _Almost_.

Only the thought that it would be more pleasurable to take his time in a one-on-one against Chrollo – Hisoka knew for a fact that if he went for Chrollo now, he would have to fight while fending off those flies sitting around, and while that would be fun in its own way, it would also require him to split his attention multiple ways, which would prevent him from savoring his fight with Chrollo – kept him from prematurely giving himself away.

Hence, discovering his little mouse hiding behind the crates was a miracle that sent a jolt of glee rushing through his veins.

Oh, don’t get him wrong. It had been a rather big shock to find his Valdis assassin lurking out of sight. In fact, she had blended in so well with the shadows that he had almost overlooked her. If anybody asked, he would have told them that it was his ‘Luna-senses’ that helped him spot her. But if he simply _had_ to be honest, she had merely made a mistake.

It almost made Hisoka wonder if he could take pride in the fact that he had cause _two_ _whole_ Valdis assassins to lose their composure merely by showing up.

As Hisoka stared into shocked blue eyes, he allowed his mouth to curve into a smile that he knew was more genuinely amused than he really wanted it to be, but that didn’t matter. What _did_ matter was that _this_ was going to be his source of entertainment. Which was why, in spite of knowing exactly why she had come, he decided to leave her alone. Giving her away would be a death sentence, after all, and the more toys he had, the more fun his future self would have.

Besides, he could always stop her if she seemed close to succeeding.

So instead of raising the alarm, Hisoka molded his expression back into his default, airy smile, sauntered back to his seat, began examining his cards, and waited.

 _Come on_.

Hisoka’s finger tapped restlessly against the side of his thigh.

 _Come on_.

He hid the gleeful grin that tugged at the edges of his mouth.

 _Come on, come on, come on_.

It had already been _thirty entire seconds_ since he had caught her. What was she _waiting for_? Come out and attack Chrollo already. If she didn’t, he had no idea _what_ he would do. He only knew that, whatever it was, it would be a huge _waste_ , and Hisoka did not _like_ waste. He took a shuddering breath.

“Hisoka,” Chrollo’s voice said. “Is everything alright?”

Hisoka paused, forcing his train of thought to a stop and turning his attention to the leader. He blinked, once, twice, before his eyes could focus on the man and the slight frown on his face. Ahh, the back of Hisoka’s mind commented. This was probably why Luna hadn’t come out yet.

“My card got a little dirty” Hisoka said, as if that explained the bloodlust that he had inadvertently leaked, and smiled vacantly.

He felt his heartbeat slowing back into its normal rhythm, and the heat in his veins subsided. He vaguely noticed Chrollo nodding and returning to his book, all abnormality forgotten, and from the corner of his eye, he caught the rest of the Spiders sending him suspicious looks before they, too, went back to doing nothing.

Hisoka smiled wryly. If he was the one keeping his own entertainment at bay, he would have to bore himself. How ironic. So, to keep himself from dwelling on the little mouse hiding meters away, Hisoka turned his mind to more… normal things. Such as what he would have for dinner that night, or why coffee always just happened to make him sleepy.

Hisoka had just about dozed off from boredom when a dark shadow caught the corner of his vision – the realization that only his knowledge that Luna was there had allowed him to see her move rather impressed him – and Hisoka _moved_.

Everything happened in a blur. The legs of the Spider stared, bodies frozen halfway out of their seats and eyes wide in shock, at the gleaming tip of a blade poised a mere millimeter from their boss’s throat. In spite of their notoriety, not one of them had ever considered the possibility of an assassin going after their leader. And not one of them had _ever_ considered that there would be even the _slightest_ possibility that an assassin would get close enough to succeeding that Chrollo _could be dead right now_ , if it wasn’t for Hisoka’s quick reaction.

Hisoka stifled a giggle.

Once they had the time to think back and realize that fact, their reactions would be _glorious_.

Hisoka grinned down at the caught assassin, and Chrollo turned the page.


End file.
